


The Dark Side of the Moon

by indevan



Series: Bump In the Night - A FE3H Monsters and Supernatural AU series [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25297660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: Bernadetta wants to give Hubert the gift she made him to thank him for saving her life.  Sylvain knows where to find him
Relationships: Bernadetta von Varley/Hubert von Vestra, Sylvain Jose Gautier & Bernadetta von Varley
Series: Bump In the Night - A FE3H Monsters and Supernatural AU series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823602
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	The Dark Side of the Moon

Bernadetta studies Sylvain’s face for a trace of disbelief. She doesn’t have many friends (make that any) that she could have shared her story from the other week with. Sylvain is the closest she has to someone she can talk to. She thinks she’s gotten better since leaving the chokehold of her parents’ house, but rebuilding relationships with others. It helps that Sylvian is outrageously extroverted and sparked conversation with her once when she was buried in the beanbags at the library.

Right now he stands on the other side of the counter at the used bookshop, considering her words. Bernadetta doesn’t think it really has anything to do with her night with Hubert, but she decided to apply for the job at the bookshop. If she can be attacked by shadow creatures at any moment, she figures that she ought to be a bit less reserved with her desires.

“What did he look like again?” Sylvain asks.

_Tall, impossibly so, and he seems even taller than he is. Handsome in a byronic way, all thin lines and sharp features...the way his hair artfully tumbles over one eye only adds to his mystique._

“Tall,” she says. “Um. He has really pale skin, dark hair…”

Bernadetta has admitted that, since that night, she’s nursed more than a bit of a crush on her nocturnal savior. Hubert went out of his way to help her when he didn’t even know her. And, more than that, she wants to give him the black embroidered flower that she made him.

“Are you sure he was a real person and not, like, a Halloween decoration?”

She feels her face heat up.

“Sylvain!”

He laughs, one hand grabbing at his chest as he does it. Bernadetta schools her face into a look of anger until he stops, shaking his head and sending his cowlicky mess of orange hair in his face. Sylvain pushes it back and grins.

“Sorry, sorry. That’s my bad.” He turns his hand out.

The light catches on the metal of the medical bracelet he always wears. It’s quick, but it makes her blink her eyes against the after images nonetheless. Sylvian hasn’t said why he wears the bracelet, but she also figures that it isn’t her place to ask about whatever medical condition he has.

“If you want to find him, I know where he is,” he says.

It takes Bernadetta moment to register what he said. Sylvain _knows_ where Hubert is?

“How?” she asks, hating how her voice squeaks on the end of the question.

Sylvain shrugs.

“Most anyone on the supernatural side of things hangs out at Dark Side.”

This is the first that Bernadetta has heard of it. Dark Side?

“A bar,” he clarifies. “On the southside of town. By my apartment.”

Right. The apartment where Sylvain lives used to be a hotel years and years ago. There’s rumors that it’s haunted, but, with this town, nothing is ever _just_ a rumor.

“A bar?” she asks.

Another laugh. Sylvain leans his elbows on the counter, nearly catching an old biography on Napoleon. He laces his fingers and cocks his head to the side.

“Such a cliché, right? But if it works, it works.”

Something isn’t adding up. Bernadetta frowns.

“Is this, um, common knowledge?”

“Not particularly. But a lot of people in this town are good at ignoring things, right?”

“How do _you_ know about it?”

Sylvain shrugs.

“I told you. It’s by my apartment.”

Something still isn’t adding up, but Bernadetta is more excited over the prospect of seeing Hubert again to give her the gift she made him. Would he even remember her, though? Maybe he makes a habit out of saving dumb girls who are out too late…

_Stupid Bernie…_

She tries to will away the negative thoughts as best as she can.

“I’ll help you close up,” Sylvain says. “And I can take you there.”

It isn’t quite time to close the bookshop, but it’s getting close. The sun has set and night is creeping in. Very few businesses stay open past nightfall here. Except for, apparently, the bar near Sylvain’s apartment.

Bernadetta smiles at him, grateful now more than ever that he came to talk to her at the library.

“Okay.”

\--

Dark Side isn’t the bar’s full name. The full name, written in green and pink neon is The Dark Side of the Moon. The sign is all neon, not just the words but the white full moon and blue outline of a wolf with its flashing jaw opening and closing in a mockery of a howl. Sylvain shakes his head and chuckles at the sign and holds the door open.

“Stay close,” he tells her. “Normies don’t usually come here.”

“N-normies? Is that what they call us?”

“No.” His mouth makes a funny turn. “Well, not usually.”

“And what about you?”

Sylvain doesn’t answer her. He just gives another smile.

It’s early enough that the bar isn’t crowded and Bernadetta can see that it’s quite spacious. The floors, walls, and ceilings are painted black and there are some booths tucked away, set into the walls. A few tables and chairs are set up near a long, black bar. There’s a cleared off part that’s meant to function as a dance floor if the DJ booth near it is any indication. The guy working it looks to be her age, but Bernadetta can’t be too sure since he’s working at a bar like this. Something about him seems familiar, though, and she can’t place it. He’s bent over, light blue hair obscuring part of his face as he fiddles with his sticker-covered laptop.

“See, there he is.”

For a moment, Bernadetta thinks that Sylvain is talking about the DJ, but then she follows his pointing finger towards the bar or, rather, who’s standing behind it. Hubert stands with that perfectly straight back posture she noticed before, cleaning out the nozzle of the drink paddle. It takes her only a moment longer to become mortified with Sylvain’s pointing. She lets out a squawk and tries to push his arm down.

“Don’t point!” she exclaims, which doesn’t help matters.

Sylvain, being Sylvain, simply laughs and starts moving his pointed finger through the air like he’s performing magic. Both Hubert and the DJ are looking their way. Thankfully, no one else seems to be in the bar. Hubert’s thin brows raise nearly imperceptibly when he sees her.

“Well, go on. Let’s say hi.”

Sylvain starts walking and Bernadetta trails behind him. It takes everything in her not to duck behind his much taller form.

“Hey, Hubes.”

It occurs to Bernadetta that she never actually told Sylvain Hubert’s name. Did he already know him? Does Sylvain _come_ here? Maybe that’s how he knows that they don’t really like normal people coming in. It _is_ close to his apartment so maybe he deals with weird stares as a matter of convenience. Or...Bernadetta’s stomach clenches. She doesn’t know what to think of the alternative. She’s seen Sylvain during the day, anyway. There’s no way that he’s a vampire.

But what if he’s something else?

“Gautier,” he says with a dismissive sniff through his nose. He looks at her and Bernadetta feels her insides curdle a little. Then Hubert’s gaze softens. “Bernadetta, hello. It is nice to see you again.”

_It is?!_

Bernadetta composes herself and nods.

“Y-yes. Sylvain said he knew you, um, worked here! So he brought me so I could--ah--that is, so I could give you this.”

She reaches into the pocket of her bulky cardigan and produces the embroidered rose.

“It’s black. I figured that was your favorite color.”

Something that might be a smile twists at Hubert’s thin lips.

“It is. Thank you.”

He reaches for it and, for a second, his fingers touch hers and Bernadetta nearly shiver. His hands are ice cold, of course, but the brief touch makes her heart pound. Oh, she truly _does_ have a crush, doesn’t she?

Hubert fixes the rose to his lapel.

“I wanted to thank you,” she says. “For, um, before.”

Hubert remembered her name so he must remember saving her, right?

“It was nothing,” he says.

Sylvain leans on the bar and gives a smirk.

“Was it? Because I feel like you’d be blushing if you could.”

Hubert whips his head to the side to send an icy glare in his direction.

“That is enough out of you, Gautier.”

He steps back and holds his hands up in mock surrender. Sylvain’s posture is relaxed, but there’s something else about how he’s holding himself that seems odd. Bernadetta can’t quite place it.

“Do you want to order anything?” Hubert asks, still glaring.

Behind him, Bernadetta sees a rather regular-looking selection of alcohol behind the bar. On tap, as well, there are beer brands that she recognizes from the grocery store. Nothing magical or supernatural. Despite it all, she feels a bit disappointed.

“Sure,” Sylvain says. “Bernie? My treat.”

She bites her lip.

“I don’t drink,” she admits. “I don’t like the taste.”

Bernadetta tried, especially when she was out from her father’s yoke, but the taste made her gag.

“I can make you whatever mocktail you would like,” Hubert says. “Soda, water, and non-alcoholic drinks are free to help designated drivers.”

“C-can you, ah, that is--can you….” She lets herself trail off before she shoves her foot in her mouth further.

Hubert gives a slight smirk of amusement.

“No, I cannot. But others can.”

That’s properly cryptic. Bernadetta considers his other words.

“Can I get a shirley temple?”

Hubert nods. To Sylvain he says, with a measure of derision, “A Blue Moon for you, then?”

“You know it.”

It strikes Bernadetta as strange that Sylvain has a regular order that Hubert knows. How often does he come here?

“I love citrus,” Sylvain explains to her, even though she didn’t ask.

Behind them, the DJ starts playing snatches of songs. Hubert makes a face and glares at him over Bernadetta’s shoulder.

“Caspar, must you?” he asks.

Caspar. Somehow, that name sounds familiar. Wasn’t he in one of her classes back in high school? It’s not a particularly common name, after all. Was Caspar’s hair blue? Bernadetta frowns, trying to recall it. Much of her teen years are lost to her due to her parents’ abuses, so she can’t be sure.

“My bad!” he calls and laughs.

Bernadetta shakes her head. Whether or not she knows him, it doesn’t matter now. Hubert gets to work preparing their drinks, filling a pint glass from the tap for Sylvain and mixing Sprite and grenadine for her. Before he hands it to her, he reaches into a container set into the bar with a small pair of metal tongs and extracts two maraschino cherries. He drops them into the plastic cup and slides it across the bar.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Think nothing of it.”

Bernadetta sips her drink and tries not to watch Hubert. Instead she watches Sylvain as he leans on the bar and sips his beer. Something about him isn’t adding up. He knows Hubert, he comes to this bar regularly enough that Hubert knows his favorite beer. More people are trickling in and, every now and then, she sees Sylvain lift a hand in greeting. Bernadetta wants to turn and face the bar to avoid the curious glances being cast her way, but she doesn’t want to look at Hubert and get all flustered and blushing again. She feels silly, like a teenager with a crush. She’s an adult and she will enjoy her carbonated, sweet mocktail and feel adult about it!

After some time, the bar gets more crowded and she gets a bit more ansty. Can they all _tell_ that she doesn’t belong here? Sylvain must sense it because he puts his nearly empty glass on the bar top.

“Ready to head out? Delivery accomplished?”

She nods. Sylvain turns around and she follows suit, unsure what else to do. No one has really made it to the bar yet, so it’s easy to get Hubert’s attention. He hasn’t taken off the flower yet. Bernadetta feels her cheeks flare with heat once more.

“We’re heading out,” Sylvain says. “Put my drink on my tab.”

Hubert makes a sour face.

“You haven’t paid your tab.”

“Ah. Well. Then put it on Dimitri’s tab.” He gives a wink, which makes Hubert roll his eyes in response.

“Fine.” His gaze falls on Bernadetta and it takes everything in her not to squirm beneath it. “Until next time, Bernadetta.”

“Y-yeah!” she manages back.

_Next time?!_

Does that mean he wants to see her again? Bernadetta isn’t sure what to do with that information. Instead she nods her head a bit too jerkily and follows Sylvain towards the door. She watches his back and her thoughts stray from Hubert to him. He has a tab here?

He holds the door open for her, grinning goofily as he does.

“Um...Sylvain?” she asks once they’re outside. Bernadetta shoves her hands deep in the pockets of her cardigan and fights off a chill.

“Yeah?” He preens a bit. “Is this a ‘thank you’ for reuniting you with the vampiric lover of your dreams?”

“No. Well. Yes. Thank you, but.” She bites her lip. “Um, don’t take this the wrong way but...what are you?”

Bernadetta isn’t sure what answer she was expecting but it wasn’t for Sylvain to laugh. He does the chest grab again and shakes his head. He drops his head to look back at her and gives a devil may care grin.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to,” he says, voice surprisingly low. Then normally, he says, “Now, c’mon. Let’s get you home before it gets too late, yeah?”

Bernadetta stares at him for a moment.

“S-sure.”

She follows Sylvain back towards the center of town, towards the residential area where she lives, but something won’t leave her mind. It may have been a trick of the neon lights, but, when Sylvain looked back at her after he’d stopped laughing, it had appeared as if his eyes were glowing.


End file.
